so i'm flossing my teeth getting ready for bed and all i can think about is mean!simon and dumb!bimbo!reader who overhears him talking to his army buddies
tw: lewd degrading language, douchebag military au i guess? 18+, unedited
".... and how's your little bird doin?" the scottish one asks, thick voice even thicker with the amber liquid coating his throat.
Simon grunts his response, taking a sip of his own drink as he mulls over the question.
You're upstairs in his bed, heavenly body clad in a blush satin nightdress while you rest. At least, you're supposed to be.
It's late. Late enough for him to have had a bit more than usual. That's the only explanation for why he didn't hear your feet pad down the stairs, through the living room, down the hall and outside the study.
Why he didn't pick up on your soft breathing, or your humming bird heart.
But there you are, ear practically pressed to the closed door as you wait for him to answer Soap's question.
"She's a good girl. And thank God for that 'cause she's got nothin' but air up in that head o' hers."
Your jaw drops, bottom lip wobbling.
Of all the things you thought he'd say, that certainly was not on the list.
Soap barks a laugh, "care to elaborate?"
"She's simple. Exactly how she looks. Pretty face, tight cunt, and not a thought in her. Surprised she managed on her own as long as she did the way she is."
"She real tight?" The Scot asks after a moment of silence.
You shift your weight. Surely your boyfriend won't dignify that with an answer.
"As a fuckin' vice. Squeezes my cock like a virgin every time."
Your frown deepens but your cunt clenches.
"Think she'd be okay if I watched?" He sounds like he's only half-kidding to you, and Simon knows there's not an ounce of humour in the question.
"Yeah, she'll try anything once. twice if you call it a different name."
Tears sting your eyes, and you scurry back off to bed in your little satin nightdress while Simon shows Soap videos of your tight snatch taking his heavy cock.
~*~
"Do you think I'm smart?" You ask a few days later.
The two of you have finished dinner and now you're stretched out on opposite ends of the couch, your feet in his hands.
His thumbs dig into your arches in smooth passes, while his eyes dart from your fresh pedicure to your face.
"In what way?"
You frown and cross your arms over your chest, tugging your feet away from him.
"I heard you talking to Johnny. Don't try lying to me now, Simon."
He huffs out a sigh and rolls his eyes, grabbing your foot and yanking it toward him again.
"Dolly, do you think you're smart? And be honest with me now."
You glare at him as he presses a kiss to your ankle.
"Nothin' I said was untrue and you know that. You're a lot of things, Dolly, but a genius ain't one of 'em. S'why I like you."
You cock your head to the side in confusion.
"Pretty girl, you just do as you're told. Don't ask any questions or think any thoughts. Just how I like 'em."
He presses another sweet kiss to the inside of your ankle then resumes massaging, strong hands working the anger out of you.
Maybe he didn't mean it in a rude way, you think to yourself. Maybe he was just genuinely explaining you to Soap. If the two of you are happy, why get mad, right?
